The people around you
by Because.Of.Love
Summary: The story of six teenagers trying to find their way in life.


*a/n: The word 'fag' is used for another name for a cigarette.

…

-Leigh-

I ran as fast as I could to the basement. I collapsed on my bed, letting the tears fall down my face, not caring about my make-up. I was ugly already anyways. I even got called fat today. That stupid bitch Kayla came up to me, all happy-like. "Hey Leigh, trying to hide your fat?" She said it with a smile and a laugh as she gestured to my baggy clothes. But I couldn't take it. I had been trying to lose weight for over five months now. My pants said I was a size zero, but I knew that was a lie. Sure some pants said size zero, others considered that a size ten. I have always thought that my wavy black hair, ocean blue eyes, and pale skin was a curse. Just a few more things to make me ugly. I was fat, and I knew it. If I could get to a double zero, then, and only then would I be happy. I made my way to the bathroom and stood over the toilet. The tears fell less frequently now. I knew what I had to do if I wanted to be pretty. I knelt down and stuck my hand down my throat, bring the familiar wrenching of my stomach once again. After I was done I brushed my teeth… can't let the parents know what I was up to. They would tell me a lot of bull shit. About how I was pretty and I shouldn't be so concerned with my looks. But this was the twenty-first century. Without looks, what did a girl have?

…

-Kayla-

I wrinkled my nose as the familiar sensation rushed through my body. The meth raced through my veins and I groaned in pleasure. This was the stuff I was looking for. Not the cheep street meth, but some good stuff. I smiled up at Luke and batted my eye lashes. "Thanks. How much can I get for a hundred?" I asked, hoping to get the good stuff while there was some left. He chuckled. "You can get an eight ball for two hundred." He sat back and studied my expression. I simply smiled up at him. "What about one hundred, and more?" I said pushing myself up against him. He smiled at me. "Only if you make it worthwhile."

…

-Linda-

I sat on my bed looking down at what I had done. Cassidy saw the scars today. And I wondered, why did I do it? Is it because it helps me see pain I can't feel? Or maybe because when I do it, my emotions stay in check and I can handle everything, if only for a few moments. Or maybe I'm just a fool. The blood from my wrists started to fall and I caught it before it could land on my bed. Any evidence of blood and my parents would cry themselves to sleep. That is if they cared. When Cassidy found out she didn't even ask why I did it. She just stared at me and shook her head like she was disappointed. If your boyfriend was selling meth and had sex with random girls and if your parents never gave you the time of day you would think you had problems too. But no. Perfect Cassidy. Ever the angel, would never understand.

…

-Cassidy-

I looked down at the pack of ciggs and laughed. There were only five left and I got it yesterday. Who knew nicotine was so addicting? Oh, right, everyone. But oh well, it's too late, I was hooked. I lit up another fag and took a long drag. God, it made me feel so good. The taste on your mouth giving you comfort when no one else will.

…

-Luke-

After I was done with Kayla I drove home thinking about everything. How I wasn't good enough for Linda and never would be, how I just lost $75, and how I was madly in love with Kayla. When I got home my parents called me for dinner but I said I wasn't hungry and went to my room. Cute girls don't like fat boys.

…

-Jason-

I stumbled to my room. Too far gone to realize my parents were pulling up the driveway. They came in and saw the empty beer cans, the ones I forgot to clean up, and came storming into my room. They yelled words at me like "Fuck up" and "Shit face" but when you're me, you're used to it. You get used to how your father hits you while your mother laughs at the blood dripping from your nose. You get used to how to cock your head to a certain angle so the blood doesn't go down your throat. You get used to the fact that your best friends were bulimic and anorexic. You get used to it all.


End file.
